Big Bear City

I wouldn't so much call Big Bear a city as I would an enchanted little village tucked away in the San Bernardino mountains. The fact that the town is made up of quaint mom n' pop shops and cafes only adds to its charm. For me, the enchantment lies within the wooden walls of my sister's cabin. She used the era of its erection (being the 1960's) as inspiration for furnishings and decor. This is my sister's special place. She loves everything in this cabin, down to the very candlestick. Anyone who has ever had the privilege of staying here can feel the love she has for this place, and that is what makes it enchanting for me. 

I don't think many people can really say they love everything in there home. In my opinion this creates internal discord. I constantly feel a bit unsettled by the awkwardness of my home. My respite from which, lies within the confines of my headphones. My secret place swims down the streams of minor chord progressions. Its carried on the backs of dissonant voices and takes me to the places I want to be.

During this particular weekend my secret place was illuminated by the sounds of St. Vincent's Strange Mercy album and Gandalf's 2.

The weekend went as follows...

Breakfast: Martha Stewart's Spinach & Gruyere Cheese Quiche

Chili cook-off with Haley's parents at Big Bear Lake

I was designated golf cart driver for the event

Alice and Ruth making their way up "Magic Mountain"

Heading down the Alpine Slide

Broke for ice cream

Go carts were a blast. I got in trouble twice for ramming into 

everyone as I made my way to the front!!!

The night ended with homemade street dogs. 

We wanted to bring a bit of LA with us to the mountains.

The sweetest part of the weekend was written on the gentle whisperings of our confessing lips and the flutter and flux of our feminine hearts. I will forever cherish these times among my friends.